Southwest Days (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 2) Read online

  Southwest Days

  Semiautomatic Sorceress™ Book 2

  Kal Aaron

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2021 LMBPN Publishing

  Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design

  http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First edition, March 2021

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-637-8

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-638-5

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Author Notes - Kal Arron

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Connect with The Authors

  About Kal Aaron

  Books By Kal Aaron

  Books By Michael Anderle

  The Southwest Days Team

  Thanks to our Beta Team:

  John Ashmore, Larry Omans, Kelly O’Donnell

  JIT Readers

  Deb Mader

  Zacc Pelter

  Jackey Hankard-Brodie

  Paul Westman

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Dave Hicks

  Diane L. Smith

  Wendy L Bonell

  Angel LaVey

  Editor

  Skyhunter Editing Team

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my wife. She put up with a lot of late nights when I was writing this book.

  — Kal

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  — Michael

  Chapter One

  Lyssa hoped she hadn’t driven four hundred miles for nothing. Being able to cover that distance quickly with sorcery on her bike didn’t mean it was effortless.

  Her day would grow even more annoying if the trip ended in an ambush. Wanting to get back to doing her job didn’t mean wanting to get shot at by random idiots who were too stubborn to know when they were beaten.

  There were also more exotic threats. Such was the life of a Society Torch.

  “You never know when you’re going to walk into a building looking for a friend and get jumped by some stupid magical construct that gets faster the more you hit it,” she muttered. She’d long since added her spells and was now just a normal-looking woman in a white leather jacket riding a not-so-normal bright yellow Ducati Panigale.

  “You believe trouble is coming?” Jofi asked. “You didn’t indicate such earlier.”

  Having her regalia, guns, and spirit partner reassured Lyssa. She might not be equipped for all possibilities, but that combination would let her handle almost anything capable of being solved with a bullet or an enchanted baton.

  “No,” Lyssa replied. “But I don’t trust my luck. Sometimes something as routine as picking up new ammo ends up with me fighting for my life.”

  “You’re not going to visit Miss Dale. There’s little risk of being attacked by one of her unfortunate experiments.”

  Lyssa explained, “I was using her as an example. The point stands.”

  “It’s been a month since you experienced any significant violence,” Jofi said. “You didn’t kill anyone when I wasn’t present, did you?”

  Lyssa laughed. “Not that I remember, but you never know. Some days I worry about waking up and finding out.”

  She frowned. It’d be far too easy to let Lee’s name slip out. That could lead to Jofi asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

  Oh, I’m sorry. That’s the name of the guy in charge, other than me, of making sure you stayed locked in my guns and ignorant of your true nature.

  “Lyssa, is there a problem?” Jofi asked.

  “No,” Lyssa admitted. “I’m spinning myself up for nothing.”

  “That’s unadvisable.”

  “I can’t disagree with that.”

  Lyssa lapsed into silence. She needed to pay more attention to her turns now that she was in Los Angeles proper.

  A Bentley with tinted windows waited far too long to make a turn at an intersection, blocking Lyssa. Her Ducati might be out of place in fancy neighborhoods less inclined toward expensive sport motorcycles, but Lyssa was in the capital of pointless excess and showing off. There was bound to be some actor in the neighborhood riding around on a bike that made hers seem like something she’d picked up from a junkyard. She smiled at the thought.

  With the Bentley out of the way, she continued toward her destination, trying her best to take slow, even breaths and not work herself up. She didn’t expect any violence at the end of the trip, but physical pain wasn’t the only concern.

  Lyssa slowed her bike and pulled onto a private side road. She was close.

  Pressure built in her chest. Sorcery and lots of it. She’d arrived.

  She wasn’t surprised by the sorcery, given her earlier paranoia. It was expected. This wasn’t her first time there.

  Spells and enchantments covered almost every foot of the sprawling, fenced-in mansion at the end of the road. A prepared Illuminated was a longer-lived Illuminated. Being out of the top hat meant their kind had a lot more potential enemies, and hiding their identities wasn’t always enough to protect them.

  Someone who made a living lethally punishing the enemies of the Shadow and Illuminated societies might have more risk, but it was hard to have power and not be targeted at some point. Even Tricia didn’t go around publicly admitting her true nature.

  Lyssa pulled up to a white gate decorated with ornate scrollwork and stopped. She’d last been to the mansion in the early summer. As far as she knew, the entry procedures hadn’t changed.

  “Living in this big place seems like it’d be annoying,” she said.

  “Isn’t that why your hostess has staff?” Jofi asked.

  “People are the most annoying thing of all.”

  The gate opened, the two sides pulling apart, all but silent. Lyssa drove forward before turning toward a multi-doored garage larger than her Scottsdale home. A door on the side li
fted to reveal a dedicated space walled off from the rest of the garage. She sensed more sorcery as she pulled inside and parked.

  Lyssa hopped off the bike and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. She looked at a wooden door on the other side of the garage and waited. The seconds ticked away, and she whistled.

  A man with perfect hair wearing a black and red uniform opened the door. His face was a mask of blandness, but there was no sorcery coming off him.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Corti,” he said, bowing his head.

  “Hey. I got a message from your boss telling me to stop by.”

  Lyssa forced a weak smile. There weren’t a lot of reasons she’d be summoned to this house and even fewer that might not change her life.

  “Yes,” the servant said. “We were informed of your arrival.” He gestured at the doorway. “If you’ll please follow me.”

  The servants never made any attempt to disarm her. She wanted to believe that spoke to trust, but she doubted she could draw her weapon in the sorcery-fortified location without ten men with shards jumping her.

  Lyssa pulled her hands out of her pockets and followed the servant into and through the home. She didn’t bother paying attention to the circuitous route. Based on the art landmarks, it was different than the last time she’d visited. Navigation was only going to get more annoying before the end of her visit, another aspect of the hostess’s security measures.

  They ended up in a sitting room covered with paintings. Her hostess loved her expensive works. They were all originals, some famous enough that even Lyssa recognized them.

  Prints wouldn’t do in this mansion. They were affronts to the owner’s sorcery essence as much as her ego.

  The servant gestured toward a white settee. “She’ll be with you soon, miss.”

  Lyssa nodded and took a seat, worried about getting dirt or grime on the furniture. That one was one of the reasons she avoided white furniture at home.

  “Thanks.” She smiled at the man.

  Dealing with servants always bothered her. Plenty of Illuminated relied on them. A lot of families even had servants from other trusted families who no longer could produce heirs with sorcerous ability.

  Lyssa’s parents, though coming from the proud Corti line, nonetheless eschewed servants and the trappings of faux aristocracy. She’d inherited their dislike.

  The servant bowed his head before retreating from the room. There was nothing to do but wait. Sitting there in a leather jacket didn’t fit the ambiance of the room, but at least it was her disguised regalia. There were few things on Earth more important and valuable than regalia.

  “You’re always worried this woman is going to attack you,” Jofi said, his voice neutral as always.

  “Why do you think that?” Lyssa whispered. “I’ve never said that. It’s not like I can maintain all my traveling spells without my regalia.”

  “You’re always tense when you’re here, and you make a point of bringing me. It’s the logical conclusion when considering that evidence.”

  “We’re a long way from Scottsdale,” Lyssa replied. “This isn’t a quick stop at the corner Emperor Chicken.”

  “Are you sure that’s the full truth?” Jofi asked.

  Lyssa snorted at his choice of words. They were too perfect, given the falsehood essence of her hostess.

  At least Jofi wasn’t offering any sinister commentary on the beauty of destruction. He’d been a good and normal bound spirit since her run-in with the rogue in Texas. With everything else going on, she didn’t need more stress.

  “The point is I could get jumped along the way,” Lyssa explained. “I’m not worried about Caroline. Of all the people lined up to kill me, I imagine she’s pretty low on the list. Higher than Tricia, but not much.”

  She looked up as the door opened. A silver-haired woman in a pure white layered outfit that was half kimono and half Roman stola stepped through. The woman’s smooth, pale face wasn’t covered, but a white blindfold was wrapped around her eyes. Full-length white gloves covered her arms and hands. It was the Wronged Innocent regalia, bound to the Sorceress owner of the mansion, Caroline Malley.

  Lyssa stood and extended a hand with her palm up. “Hey.”

  “Hello, Lyssa,” Caroline replied. “It’s been too long.”

  “That’s probably a good thing.” Lyssa gave a wry smile. “Most people can only take me in small doses.”

  “Bluntness has a charm all its own.”

  “If you say so.”

  Caroline reached over and took Lyssa’s hand. A pulse of sorcery made Lyssa shiver, but she knew there was no way this meeting would continue without letting the other woman perform her spell. Everyone had their own way of protecting themselves.

  “Did you come to lie to me today?” Caroline asked, her voice soft and strangely soothing.

  Lyssa shook her head. “I came because you contacted me. I didn’t think you would bother unless it was important.”

  “I presume it’s important,” Caroline replied. “Do you mean me harm today?”

  “No.”

  “Do you ever mean me harm?”

  Lyssa shook her head. “You might try to kill me at some point, and then, yeah, I’d mean you harm.”

  “Understandable.” Caroline dropped her hand.

  Relief flooded Lyssa. The tension in her neck and shoulders vanished.

  Jofi misunderstood why she was nervous. She had brought him to protect herself along the way, but her problem with Caroline was something else entirely.

  Everyone had secrets they wanted to keep, and that could be hard around a woman who could detect lies. It was one of the simplest spells the woman could pull off with her falsehood essence.

  It didn’t matter that they weren’t enemies. They weren’t friends either.

  Lyssa had helped Caroline out of a dangerous situation a few years prior, but things could change quickly among the complicated political scene of Sorcerers and Sorceresses. Most Illuminated did not end up as rogues who needed to be put down, but a strong political position was as deadly a weapon as any gun or spell. The more secrets Lyssa hoarded, the safer she’d be should anyone in the Society target her.

  “It’s pleasant to see you again,” Caroline said. “I understand you’ve been busy since we last spoke with your move to Arizona and those incidents in Phoenix and Houston. And I assume there are others I might not have heard about. I don’t always avail myself of Society news not related to my interests. I find it tedious.”

  Lyssa smiled. “It’s the life of a Torch. Tedious terror.” She chuckled. “It doesn’t lend itself well to cocktail parties and witty discussions about Rembrandt.” She looked around at the paintings. “Do you have any Rembrandts?”

  “No.” Caroline smiled.

  Lyssa chuckled. “I don’t get to go after peaceful art lovers, and I’d love it if the people I went after would surrender when I show up, but it always ends up a loud conversation. At least I haven’t shot anyone lately. And the ones I did all had it coming.”

  “I see,” Caroline replied. “I’m not much for violence as a problem-solving tool, but I’m impressed with you. It’s not that often that a Torch takes down a rogue with such ease.”

  “I might not be an assassin, but I don’t want Eclipses to have all the fun,” Lyssa replied. She did her best to inject an amusement she didn’t feel into her tone. “And I had help.”

  “So I heard. Aisha Khatri.” Caroline’s smiled verged on condescending. “Another surprise, given your well-known strained relationship. Curious.”

  Lyssa shrugged. “Sometimes it’s easiest to give an angry person another target for their rage. And she’s not so bad when she’s not threatening to kill me.”

  Caroline cocked her head to the side but said nothing else. The unpleasant silence stretched out.

  Lyssa wasn’t sure what it meant. Caroline’s regalia allowed her to see despite her blindfold, but it robbed her conversation partners of the subtle cues about the conversation. Th
ey hadn’t had a conversation in years without Caroline wearing her regalia.

  Lyssa asked, “What’s this about? Did you need help with something on the violent side of things? I can’t promise anything, and I’ll have to run it by Samuel.”

  “Nothing so unpleasant, I assure you.” Caroline’s smile dimmed. “A request came through from Last Remnant. They have a message for you.”

  Lyssa’s stomach knotted, and she took a deep breath.

  “About what?” Lyssa asked.

  “They neglected to share the contents of the message with me. I was told to have you contact them directly and not share details of the message with anyone else.”

  Lyssa’s heart rate kicked up. No one on the hidden island home of the Sorcerers idly contacted the outside world without a good reason. Orders from the Tribunal or other general Society business were routed through Elders, who would then talk to those in their area of responsibility.

  This had to be something personal. This could be it. They’d finally found her brother.

  “Okay,” Lyssa agreed. “This sounds important.”

  She’d never given up hope, and the revelations from her last case proved her brother hadn’t died the day everyone claimed. The Tribunal and other Elders likely already knew that and were hiding the truth to cover up some mistake or plot on their part.